


SPN fic: house special

by papyrocrat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-24
Updated: 2012-03-24
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:22:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papyrocrat/pseuds/papyrocrat





	SPN fic: house special

"The freak with the knife collection, huh?"

"For starters."

She scrubs at the bar harder than necessary, especially considering it's already a hell of a lot cleaner than anything up this stretch of highway.

"I had a set of nunchucks."

She pauses long enough to roll her eyes up at him. "Even _I_ think that's weird."

"Yeah. That's probably reasonable."

She takes the shortcut over the bar. "Rolling Rock okay?"

"Always." Hunters don't usually drink beer, except on special occasions. It's a waste of money and a belly full of liquid far too soon, when you could be slugging whiskey. He's not sure if this is a special occasion, or if she can just tell he still doesn't feel quite like a hunter. "Still, if you're the freak with the nunchucks, nobody brings up how you're the weirdo who spills salt everywhere."

"Or the religious nut with the rosaries." She puts the drinks on the bar and then hops up to perch, dropping her legs down next to his.

"Who never goes to church."

"Amen, brother." They toast and start to swap their meager non-war stories.

"First week there I almost stabbed a couple of frat guys," Jo says.

"Did you think they were demons?"

She grins. "Yeah, we'll go with that."

He wags a mocking finger. "Civilians are off-limits."

"Dickheads who grope your roommates ain't."

"Can't argue with that." It'd been weird at first, conflicts you didn't solve with the swing of a nine-iron, even if it was what he'd always sworn he wanted. Maybe he'd just had something to prove, and it's hard to remember what when your dad's dead.

"Yeah. Place like that, it's almost tough to believe I had enough after two years."

"What'd you study, anyway?"

"Engineering." He must've given away a little bit of surprise, because she laughs and lightly punches his shoulder. "Girls can do engineering."

"Yeah, but hunters can't do math."

She takes it as a compliment, and strangely enough, he means it as one. "Figured it was a good living if I wanted out of the life, and if I wanted back in, it was like a degree in advanced weaponry."

"Thinking on both paths. Smart." He's been there, with one foot in each world, hoping they don't finally tear apart beneath him.

"Well, I guess I made my choice now."

"Nobody chooses this life. It picks you, and you get used to it or you don't." He's not sure if it's the booze or the pretty smile she drops down at him bringing him over all philosophical, but either way, it's nice.

"You used to it yet?"

"God, I hope not."

Dean and Ellen bust through the door, all laughter and good-natured arguments about the quality of Dean's fake weapons licenses. Jo hops off the bar and Sam starts away, like they're doing something wrong.

Dean's smirk could eat his face whole. "Don't mind us."

"Mind us a little," Ellen says. "Don't sit on the bar, Joanna Beth."

He and Jo roll their eyes. She reaches over to slide another beer in front of him. "It's on the house."  
  



End file.
